My Best Friend
by IzzyDizzyLi
Summary: Brandon, brown haired, green eyed, tall and gangly Brandon, knew exactly what to do to make me laugh, what to say to make me smile, and what to do whenever I was sad. T for safety. Please tell me if this doesn't count as marching band fic.


**My Best Friend**

He was my best friend ever since third grade. Brandon, brown haired, green eyed, tall and gangly Brandon, knew exactly what to do to make me laugh, what to say to make me smile, and what to do whenever I was sad. A smile always crept onto my face whenever he would run up to me, completely excited to share the experiences of the day. Whenever I received a note from him, I would stuff it into my binder. I have notes that date back even to fifth grade, which we participated in three years ago.

Fifth grade was when I realised what the flutterings of my heart meant, and why I was always so estatic to see him. It started out as a simple crush, but now that eighth grade is coming to a close, I know that even if I get a boyfriend, I won't feel the same way about him as I do about Brandon.

The problem is that I can't make a move. The perfect relationship I have with him would slip out of balance. He would feel awkward around me, and start to avoid me. This is what he always did to girls who confess their feelings toward him. I can't help but to feel slight satisfaction when he rejects them.

On the last day of school, he describes this amazing girl, with black locks of curly hair the flows down her back like a river of dark chocolate, and eyes that stood out like the moon amongst the stars. I couldn't help but to feel saddened and hurt. My heart died that day. However, I didn't let this show, because I wasn't going to ruin his first crush, even though he ruined mine. I smiled and asked him who it was. At least I would know who stole him from me.

He did something that infuriated and frustrated me. He actually told me it was a secret! It was the first secret he had ever kept from me. I did everything I could - puppy dog eyes, pouting, bribing, ect. - to get him to tell me, but he stood firm. I could tell, though, that he was getting a kick out of knowing something I didn't. This made it hurt even more.

That day, all I could get out of him was that he'd use his music skills to win her over.

That night, as I laid in my bed thinking about this, I realized that I couldn't expect him to stay single forever, and that, even if it was painful, I had to let him go. It was selfish of me to not want him to be in a relationship with a girl. I should be happy if he was happy. However, I couldn't help but to think that no girl would ever be good enough for him.

Then, outside I hear a trumpet playing the most emotional, romantic sounding song I had ever heard. It made me close my eyes and daydream about spending the rest of my life with Brandon. The fact that he liked another girl didn't matter. In my fantasy, he was mine, and mine alone. It was like the song was dedicated to us. There was the delicate and funness of me, and the wild and rock star wannabe part of him, all mixed up in a smooth, jazzlike style. The complexity made me wonder how anyone could play so well.

All too soon, it ended. Curiosity burned through me like an open flame as I rushed to the open window to ask why the song had stopped. This is when I recieved the shock of a lifetime.

Brandon stood in my yard, grinning as if he had won the lottery and was trying to be modest of it. He was wearing his signature red and black swirled bandanna, the one he wore when he was playing his trumpet in a concert or other important event, along with faded jeans and a white tee-shirt with red sleeves. It was the outfit I had told him he looked best in.

He yelled up to me,"I've been working on that all year. Like it?"

I barely had enough breath to say,"Yeah."

My legs finally gave away and I dropped to my knees. It finally hit me that the beautiful girl he was talking about that day _was me_. My mind objected this completely. There was no way that I could be that beautiful! It was also completely ironic since I had just mentally accepted that he'd never like me.

I just had to ask him if he meant me, but when I looked up, he was gone. My heart dropped. This was some cruel joke that my mind was playing on me. So karma does hit pretty hard.

Then a loud, obnoxious trumpet sound blasted behind me, scaring the crap out of me and busting my eardrum simultaneously. I jumped and hit my head on the window. Apparently, windows hit pretty hard too. Stars sparked in front of my eyes. Holding my head, I took a few steps backwards into someone's warm embrace. For some reason, it felt right, even though I had no idea who was holding me.

Brandon's voice came to me. "Jeez, you always find a way to hurt yourself in front of me."

I looked up at him. The impact of how tall he'd gotten in the past year hit me. My throbbing head barely touched his collar bone. "Not my fault you can scare the crap out of me so easily."

Suddenly, we were both laughing in harmony. His deep laugh nearly sounded as attractive as the song he had just played. The way he was holding me felt so right, as if his strong yet thin arms were made to hug my slight frame. Our bodies were like two puzzle pieces that fit perfectly together. The smell of him was better than any perfume I'd ever smelled.

After thirty solid seconds of laughter, I asked,"Why didn't you just ask me outright?"

He gave me a dazzling smile. "I had to find out if you liked me back. If you hadn't been so persistent about knowing who it was, I would've thought that you didn't care about anyone I dated."

"You know I'm naturally curious." I tried to return a smile as good as his, although inside, I knew I was failing miserably.

"I know. I've known ever since third grade."

Suddenly, this trumpet god's face was leaning closer to mine. The hot air rolling off his tongue made my mind completely blank when it hit my face. Everything else disappeared except him and me.

That night, I received my first kiss from the one person who I'd ever allow to give it.

I held on to the back of his head, not wanting this moment to end. My right hand creeped under his bandanna and got itself tangled in his hair, and my left pulled him as close to me as we could possible get, grasping the back of his shirt. I could feel his hands on my sides, unmoving, completely unlike mine.

Of course, the best moments fly by like sparrows. Next thing I knew, we were staring into each other's eyes. I was gasping for air, but, of course, Brandon had enough to go on for another five minutes.

He grinned and commented playfully,"If you're going to pass out because of no air, I think it'd be best if we didn't kiss anymore."

I smiled."Not everyone has the lung capacity of a Trumpet God."

The title seemed to impress him. "Haha, yeah..."

We stood there in silence, taking in what had just happened, or at least I was. It was hard to think about anything else because my brain was stunned. My heart was racing so fast that I was surprised he couldn't hear it. Speaking of hearing, the only thing I could hear was his steady, even breaths and my quick breaths. I was reminded of quarter and eighth notes, something he'd explained to me a while back, because his every breath was two of mine.

He finally broke our harmonious stance and picked his trumpet off of my bed. "I'd better get home before my parents start worrying about if I've been kidnapped."

I was slightly puzzled. "Didn't you tell them you'd be here?"

His aurora became that of a mischievous little boy who'd been caught in the act. "I told them I was going out on a walk."

I giggled."Then I'll release you if you promise me something." He could've easily escaped, but he showed me he was playing along by putting his trumpet down at his feet and sticking his hands behind his back. "Promise you'll come back tomorrow."

He faked deep thought for about three seconds before he said,"That's a hard bargain you drive, but my answer is: We have the whole summer, and I'll spend as much of it as I can with you."

"Ok then, you're free."

Brandon kept his promise excellently. We spent most of the long, humid days together, and every evening he'd come to my window wearing his signature bandanna and played me our song. After about two weeks, he grew concerned that I might be getting tired of it, but there was no way I could ever get tired of it, even if I had to hear it ten times a day. To be honest, I'd love to hear it ten times a day, but he insists on playing it once a day.

To sum it all up, it was the best summer vacation I'd ever experienced. I wished it could go on forever, but, of course, highschool just had to creep up into our schedule.

And Brandon, Trumpet God Brandon, brown haired, green eyed, tall and gangly Brandon, went from being the best friend I'd ever had to the best boyfriend I'd ever had.

**End**


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